God Given Solace
by BrilliantDarkness
Summary: Noah is sick. Perhaps his illness will lead him to his destiny. His God given solace. Co-written with the lovely and talented JayLaw.
1. Chapter 1

Rain beat down hard on Noah as he rode his horse, trudging through the mud. He was running behind getting home and the only thing he had to be thankful for right then was that he wasn't bringing anything but himself home. No one was waiting on him for a mochilla.

Another coughing attack wracked his body and he struggled to stay in the rain slicked saddle through it. He had started coughing before he left the station yesterday, but had thought nothing of it. It was a dry, dusty and windy day, and he had figured that was why. But now, as he retched and unceremoniously spat the thick matter that his coughing brought out of his chest, he knew there was far more where it came from. He could feel it rattling around inside. He shivered so hard his vision blurred and his teeth chattered so loudly, the steady, repetitive noise stabbed painfully through his already aching head.

Noah hadn't felt the best when he left and Jimmy and Kid both said he should stay home and rest, they even offered to take his ride. He'd been adamant though. There wasn't anyone, especially no white man, even if they were like family, that was gonna see him NOT get his job done.

"Yeah, Sally, I know," he said, glancing at the sky. He wearily shook his head and laughed internally. He didn't have the energy to do anything more than hold on to the saddle. He knew he must be losing it if he was engaging in conversation with an angel, for surely that's what she was. "You told me my damn fool pride was going to get me killed someday. Today looks to maybe be that day. Ain't gonna be no gun or noose either from the looks of it."

His chest spasmed in the cold, and his lungs, once again, gasped desperately for air. A sharp stabbing pain in his side, his lungs seizing as to suffocate, and the coppery taste of blood that he hoped was just from his throat. He was too cold, too tired. He felt damned near delirious and his chest hurt with each breath. A thought occurred to him that he might have coughed hard enough to actually cause himself injury. Was it possible to crack a rib coughing? He had to find shelter. He had to get warm and dry. He had to rest.

Through the torrential downpour, he spotted a glow, small and faint…like a star. Squinting through a coughing fit, he thought he could almost make out the form of a structure, being beaten down on by the rain. His weary body aside, his heart leapt with hope, seeing what looked like a small homestead up ahead. He had no delusions that he would find anyone of color to welcome him in, but perhaps they would allow him shelter in the barn. At least he could get dry there. He set a course for the small log home with the cozy light glowing from the windows.

He kicked at the animal beneath him to speed his progress. The horse was moving—he could feel it—but it seemed the house never got closer. He tried to call for help to alert someone inside but his voice was too weak. He was too weak. His body slid sideways with the next bout of coughing and his hands lost their grip on the reins. He didn't even feel it as he landed on his side in the mud next to his now halted mount. Darkness closed in around him with one last thought that he had looked for shelter too late. It was oppressive, this darkness. And cold—so very cold. He thought for sure he was dead but then there shouldn't have been feeling or sense…or if there was, there should be clouds and angels…or maybe fire and brimstone. He hadn't been a saint. But there was nothing. Just darkness. He was sorry he wouldn't see his friends one last time before he died.

* * *

Eve sat curled in a chair, tucked away from the rain beating steadily on the cabin's roof. A careworn copy of Gulliver's Travels was perched in one hand while the other fidgeted with the pages. In her head she could hear her father haranguing her about her favorite pastime. He thought reading was "a waste of daylight and an excuse to sit and daydream instead of being useful." Her mother had seen the power of knowledge. No one else in the whole wide world could have gotten Eve's father to change his mind but he loved his wife like few men ever love anything or anyone. He allowed her to teach Eve and her brother Levi to read. He allowed it for her.

A wistful smile twitched at the corners of Eve's mouth as she admitted to herself that reading did, in fact, lead to daydreaming—at least in her case. Levi learned because their mother wanted him to and their father said that they would in order to please her. But Eve loved the way books could take her on a journey. She'd lost many an hour gazing out the window into the nothing outside and thinking of the places she might someday go. All the things there were to see in the world. To be like Gulliver and travel to strange lands filled with even stranger people…it was such a lovely thought. In her heart of hearts, Eve believed that someday an adventure would be hers. Perhaps it would come to her door or perhaps she would have to venture to seek it out but she would not spend the rest of her days in this tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere.

The whinny of a horse cut through the rhythmic falling of rain and startled her from her thoughts as well as the book she'd read enough times to nearly commit to memory. Carefully she marked her place with a length of yarn and set the book down.

The young woman tentatively peeked out the front window. An unfamiliar horse stood over a heap of something she could only guess was a person. That could be anybody out there. It could even be someone pretending to be in need and just waiting to attack her. More likely it was some poor, weary traveler caught in the storm and in need of a little Christian kindness. Mama always said, "Our truest selves show themselves by what we do when no one's looking."

No one but God and Mama in heaven was looking right now and that only left Eve's heart to decide what to do. Her heart answered quickly and surely.

She spared a momentary glance at her coat and decided with the way the rain was coming down it wasn't going to be any help anyway. Then she headed out the door and down the porch steps to the yard where the poor soul was getting more and more soaked by the moment. Scurrying across the yard she was met by the horse who now stood between her and the man on the ground. She could see now that this was a man with a light chocolaty caramel skin that looked to be coated in the mud he was laying in.

"Easy boy," she said reaching to the animal that looked like he was standing sentinel over the man in the mud. The golden beast was well fed with no bones sticking out under his black mane. She ran her hands along the powerful muscles rippling beneath the horse's hair that spoke of the care this man took for this creature. "He must be good to you. I'll make sure he knows how you looked after him. I just want to help."

Maybe it was a crazy thought that the horse might understand her but he moved and seemed to almost nod to her as he did.

"That's a good boy," she said softly. "I'll be back out to see to you real soon. Pretty boy like you shouldn't be out in this."

Then she turned her attention to the man at her feet. He was a big man, from the looks of him and she wasn't sure how she was going to get him into the house. But she knew she'd just have to figure out a way. He wasn't going to jump up and run inside himself and laying in the rain, he'd likely not last the night.

Taking a deep breath, she grasped under his shoulders and pulled as hard as she could. The mud was actually a help to her and he slid a ways before she lost her own footing and ended up on her backside.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" she asked the unconscious man before getting to her feet and grasping under his arms once more to pull him a few feet more. It took a few tries but she finally succeeded in dragging him to the steps of the porch.

Eve was just working in her head how she would get him up the three steps to the porch where she would at least have him out of the downpour when he began to cough. Quickly she rolled him on his side and saw his eyes open. She wasn't sure if he saw her or not or even if he knew where he was. She chanced speaking anyway.

"I need to get you inside," she said urgently. He gave a nod or something that almost looked like a nod and rolled onto his belly and pushed onto his hands and knees. Eve was able to get under his shoulder then and maneuver him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her and she thought more than once that she wouldn't be able to bear his weight.

Finally she had him inside the cabin and next to her bed. She dragged a chair to the bedside with her foot and set him down on the chair. He wasn't conscious anymore. That wasn't going to make things easier but it didn't change what needed to be done.

"I guess introductions will have to wait until you're feeling better," she said as if he could hear her. "I'm Eve, though. I guess that's silly. I'll just have to tell you again when you wake up. Unless you can hear me. I don't know if you can. Oh, just listen to me prattle on. First we need to get you out of those clothes. You'll never get dry or warm or better with them stuck to you."

As she spoke, she removed his coat and shirt and unbuttoned his long johns. Then she knelt and pulled off his boots and socks. Finally she reached and undid his trousers before pulling him off the chair enough to shove his pants and long johns down. It was only then that she more shoved than laid him onto the bed.

Before covering him up, she paused. She'd never seen a naked man before aside from Levi. He was her brother and didn't count at all. This man was beautiful. The shifting light of the flickering lamp played over his skin. His muscles were taut beneath his rich brown skin that seemed to glow from within. His face held pride and sorrow and a full life that he was far too young to leave behind. It was wrong to think of him like this. He was sick and needed her tending, not her admiration or even her fascination.

Suddenly he started shaking. He shook so hard she worried he would fall out of bed. Eve quickly pulled the blankets over him and tucked them tight around him. Then she leaned over his face and pressed her lips to his forehead—just to check his temperature, she told herself—and whispered softly in his ear.

"It's going to be alright now. I'll be back soon."

She stood to leave but then bent once more over him and pressed another kiss to the side of his face. What compelled her to do such a thing, she wasn't sure. It struck her as curious that his shaking seemed to lessen with her words and second kiss. He was cool to the touch. She grabbed another quilt and placed it over him and tucked it tightly around his body. He would be alright on his own for a little while.

Eve again decided against her coat before heading out into the rain once more to see to the man's horse. She was already wet and it didn't actually feel that cold out to her exertion-heated skin.

"It's alright," she cooed to the horse as she approached though she believed her words were more to comfort herself than the beast. "He's going to sleep for a while. Let's get you settled now."

Eve led the horse into the barn and saw to his needs. He was a fine animal and it was clear that man and horse had a bond of some sort. It wouldn't do to save the man and then have to tell him that she had ignored his companion.

As she saw to the comfort of the animal, she tried to busy her mind with wondering why this man was travelling all alone. She looked through his saddlebags for any indication of his identity but found none. Instead her mind drifted to other things.

She worried she might never know who he was. When Mama had taken ill, Levi too for that matter, they never really came back from the fever. She tried. She tried so hard to bring them back. She did everything she knew—she cared for them, made sure they got whatever medicines the doctor could give them, made them special teas with herbs to help, did everything exactly as she was told, followed every instruction to the letter—and they were gone anyway. She wasn't sure she could bear to lose another person that she tried to help.

Eve had heard the wheezing rattle in his breathing and it terrified her like little else could. She knew all there was to be done for it but also knew that all those things didn't always help. She knew that all too well. This poor man...whatever brought him to her door, she just hoped it had been in time. Eve thought to her mother and what she might say.

"_Trust in the good Lord, Evie. He led that man to your door for a reason."_

Of course she could also hear Levi's voice loud and clear in her mind as well.

"_You're too trusting...it's a good thing you have a big brother like me to look after you."_

Levi had been right and Eve's trusting nature had bitten her on the backside more than once and Levi had come to her rescue every time. It didn't matter much which voice won in her head as the man in her bed wasn't likely to find anyone to care for him anywhere else so at the very least she could make sure he didn't die alone.

No. She couldn't think like that. She had to try. She had to keep some kind of hope that she could help this man, that she could see him back to health.

She pushed her mind back to the mystery of him. A man with his skin, travelling alone…it seemed strange and perhaps even dangerous. And then she wondered on his saddle. It was beautiful and not the type of thing that a darker skinned man would usually be in possession of. He might have stolen it and be on the run. He might be dangerous.

She shook her head and took a breath before heading back into the rain. That possibility didn't change a thing. He wasn't dangerous right now at all, if he ever was. He was unconscious and could die. God led him to her door knowing she couldn't turn him away. She'd rescued mice from the jaws of cats before. She surely wouldn't turn her back on another human being. And besides, he might not be dangerous at all. This was a free place where any man could find work. What he had, he might actually own. She couldn't judge a man whose name she didn't even know.

When Eve returned to the house, she sensed that something had changed and hurried to check on her guest. She made her way to him expecting to still find the man shivering under the heavy blankets but he was now stone still. His skin was dull, almost grey and were it not for his shallow and labored breathing, Eve would have believed him dead. Cautiously she reached and touched his face. He was frozen. If she couldn't get his temperature back up, nothing else was going to matter. Of course even then, there was how his lungs sounded to be dealt with...and the chance of his body going too far the other way and developing a fever.

Once she was rid of every stitch of her own wet clothes—it wouldn't do to get sick herself while trying to help him—she grabbed another heavy quilt and laid it over him. Then she climbed into bed next to him hoping that her warm body pressed to his would help to warm him where the many blankets had failed. At first she just cuddled up tight to him as she had her mother and Levi when they had needed more warmth or comfort. There was no warming response from him. Nothing at all. She could just feel him slipping further away from her. If she didn't find a way to help him, she'd be cuddled up to a dead man very soon.

Lifting the blankets slightly, she moved herself atop him, trying to get as much contact between herself and this man as possible. She held her breath, not knowing what to expect to change or when.

She tried to relax. That was easier said than done—relaxing. She had not lain atop her brother. Father would not have allowed it. And, yet, here she was, nude and lying on some man who was still, for all purposes, a stranger. Seeing him unclothed and feeling her body pressed to his were two very different things.

She was afraid. Afraid of him waking and the strength he might have when he did. She knew nothing of him…the kind of man he was. Somehow she felt certain he would not hurt her. Eve didn't know how she could be but she just was. Still that left a fear for his condition. He was in the same condition Mama and Levi had each been in before they died. Mama was sick for a while and it broke her down but Levi had been strong. If he couldn't survive then perhaps no one could. She feared too that her father might return. It wasn't likely as he had only left a few days before and was usually gone for two weeks or more but it could happen. If he came in and saw her naked with a man—especially a man with skin like this man's—it made her blood run nearly as cold as her patient to think on it.

Eve was shocked, though, to realize that more than her fears and worries, what she was feeling was excitement. It was such an improper thought. Eve was not calmed by some innate belief in this man's goodness. She had no actual assurances of the kind of man he was. To her horror, she found that was exactly the root of her feelings. Should this man turn out to be the sort to take liberties, she believed she would not even voice a protest. Eve actually almost hoped that he was.

Sudden violent shaking from the man beneath her brought her from her musings. His teeth clacked together loudly as his whole body shivered and shook. Eve thought she might slide right off of him, but he needed her warmth so she held tightly to him. She didn't know what else to do but she had to cling to him.

Between the warmth of her body and its weight, he stilled. Eve laid her head on his chest and exhaled the breath she'd been holding. Her plan had been to stay awake and monitor his condition through the night but there had been so much activity and worry. Her exhaustion suddenly hit her and her eyes fell closed. She did not simply fall asleep. Sleep came and carted her right away.

Eve's dreams were warm and then stifling hot. They were summer when there wasn't enough shade and even the shade didn't cool. There was a man…this man whose name she still did not know. She didn't even care, for in her dreams she knew all she needed. She knew his smile, his tenderness and that he would hold her and care for her and call her Evie as he softly kissed her head.

She knew his touch and the heat it stirred in her and, even in this oppressive heat in her dreams, she craved that heat. She craved his touch. In her dream he slowly undressed her. She should feel shame at it but she didn't. She felt revered, worshipped even. His fingers traced her golden skin, caressing her breasts and committing to memory the curves of her hips and the insides of her thighs.

There was a need in the core of her being she only scarcely understood and her eyes begged him to teach her, to help her understand it fully, completely. He was a powerful, magnificent man and she wanted him to make her a woman—to make her _his_ woman. She moved against him, breasts pressed tight to his chest, legs spread around his hips, rubbing against him with a part of her she'd never given a thought before and now felt was all that was important.

Eve opened her eyes when she felt the vibration under her. This was not a dream. He was under her and groaning…in pleasure. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his shoulders and her legs were flush against his. She felt something firm and fleshy between her closed legs, tight against her ever-warming womanhood. Strong hands pressed her buttocks tighter around the hardness that extended to where she knew it was sticking out now from her backside. The very image made her feel weak.

She started to realize what a precarious position she was in. She'd had a hand in breeding their horses, goats and sheep for years. But her mother's logical words of warning about preserving her own maidenhood couldn't compare to the actual feeling of a man's—this man's…he…his…himself pressed along the juncture of her thighs, spreading her wet warmth all along his hardness. She shuddered in a breath and arched her back, rubbing herself against him. She needed something. She didn't know what. The aching between her thighs was right where he was rubbing. Her legs tightened in greedy desire. She wanted him closer, tighter to her. She needed this fire burning inside of her to be…addressed, to be…she didn't know what, but she knew he could help. He could extinguish the flames that were consuming her mind with one thought. She needed him. There. She needed his touch, his strength…him. She arched her back again, rubbing her self along his shaft, as she felt his hips gyrate and thrust against the bed beneath him. She whimpered, running her nails along his shoulders, fascinated by the extraordinary sensations exploding throughout her center. His movements became erratic and his body tensed. She became instantly afraid that she was killing him but his hands held even tighter and through his ragged breathing were moans of pleasure.

She heard him groan as he bit out a coarse, "Yes!" as he stiffened and his hands tightened on her hips.

She felt his appendage jerk and watched his eyes roll back in his head as his body jerked in time with his…manhood. She idly wondered why she hadn't started screaming even though he was falling apart, when she suddenly felt a hot, sticky wetness along the crack of her behind that seemed to get hotter and wetter with each bodily jerk she felt come from him. He was, she realized, releasing his essence along her backside and thighs. She released a heavy breath as her head fell forward onto his chest in relief .

Her relief was short lived as she felt herself being watched. She raised her head again in concern, only to be met with a pair of bright, dark brown eyes. She couldn't close her mouth that was gaped in awe at the depths of life she saw in his eyes. She felt his passion, his anger, his fears, his goodness as their eyes connected. His eyebrows furrowed and his hands tightened on her hips as she watched a gamut of emotions pass over his face. His dry lips parted with a smacking sound as he looked like he was trying to find his tongue.

He rasped faintly, "What the—Oh sh-"

She watched his throat work as he swallowed, blinking. He stared at her through narrowed, pain-filled eyes, still breathing heavily from his exertion, and groaned, "Sorry."

She could feel him shrink away as fear, regret and frustration danced over his features. His hands fell from her and landed dully at his sides. She put a hand on his cheek and bit her lip with a little smile. Her stomach flipped at the confused look he gave her as she touched him. She wanted to tell him it was alright. That his horse was taken care of, and that she would take care of him. A faint smile penetrated his concerned look. One of his hands moved as he seemed to try to touch her face but only made it far enough to tangle in her long hair.

She smiled bigger, but before the words of reassurance could fall from her lips, his beautiful brown eyes looked up over her shoulder, then further up to the ceiling, then rolled back into his head before his eyelids closed and he mouthed the word 'sorry' once more before his head fell back against the pillow.

It was then she realized the oppressive and searing heat of her dreams had really been his skin. It felt like it was burning off of his body and it wasn't from passion either. He was no longer in danger of freezing to death…but now he had the fever and, laying her head on his chest, she could hear the rattling within his lungs. It was happening again. Just like with Mama and Levi…he was dying.

* * *

**So yeah...this bunny hit a little bit ago...I thought at first it was a one shot. But as I delved into this much of it (with so much help from my dearest Gert) we realized it was for sure more than one chapter. This is merely the beginning. I kind of like Eve though.-J**


	2. Chapter 2

Cold and dark. Everything was cold and dark. It frightened him. He'd known darkness before, known cold too. This was different. This overtook everything. But then there was comfort. He couldn't discern where this comfort came from but it was there all the same. He felt safe and hopeful.

In time, dreams came. First they were dreams of desolate cold. Snow whipping around him as the wind seemed to cut through his shivering body. But slowly, as spring's warmth brings the thaw, the dreams warmed and came to life. Soon they were dreams of sweltering summer days. Days when all he could hope for was a cool pond and the time to take a dip in it.

And then there was a woman. He could not make her out, just her shape. Her body was atop his and pressed tight to him. Her breasts flush against the skin of his chest. His hands explored, seeing her body as his eyes could not. Her skin was smooth and soft, her curves even more so. He felt himself trapped between her legs and growing harder with every new discovery his fingers made.

She moved against him and sighed lightly. His hands moved over her rounded buttocks and he could feel the moist heat of her pressing onto him. He grasped her tightly and shifted until he slid into that warmth. She moved against him, desperate for more contact, more friction. He obliged, pressing his hips into her again and again relishing the heat of her and every whimper she made.

Her hands grasped at his arms as she ground herself against him forcing him deeper into her. He could feel the pleasure build in him as raging waters behind a dam. Her movements and soft noises urged him on as he thrust his hips off the bed and into her. Too soon, he thought, the dam burst. Noah felt the explosion as if time had stopped and he could see and feel every second on its own before moving to the next. He was awash in flashes of color behind his closed eyes. His skin burned with the remnants of the bliss he had been pushed to.

His eyes opened against the darkness as he fought to catch his breath from the most welcome dream. He quickly realized he had not been dreaming. There really was a woman's body pressed atop his own. Recent events crashed back to him—coughing, aching, so cold. He watched helplessly as she lifted her head, desperate to see the face of the woman who so willingly brought him such pleasure. He thought his heart might stop when he saw her.

In the light the moon cast through the window, he could see her creamy skin clearly and it overtook him with a sickening feeling of dread. She smiled and touched his face but it did nothing to quiet the rising panic. Awareness hit him at about the same time that he was still sick. He was very sick. He might even die. Of course, having seen her face and knowing what had happened, his death seemed certain anyway.

He'd never know if it was the fever or the shock of seeing her that pushed him back under. He tried to apologize. Tried to touch her face. His hand didn't make it to her face, just to her silky, soft hair and the apology never made it from his throat.

Noah was once again plunged into dreams. They were frenzied and frightening. Colors were too bright, sounds too loud and a feeling of impending doom followed him through all of them. Her face, her faint smile…haunting him. Images of a noose hanging from a tree branch coupled with the feeling of her skin under his fingers.

* * *

Eve slid off from the man and slipped out from under the blankets and stood unsteadily. She could still feel the sticky wetness coating her backside and her face flushed to think of what had just happened. What she let happen…what she had taken pleasure in happening.

How did she come to this? She was always a good girl. She had always done what was right. In fact, the only reason she'd been in bed with this mystery man was to try to do the right thing. Letting him die was not the right or Christian thing to do. Saving his life—or trying to—had to be the right thing, didn't it?

With trembling hands, she quickly wiped the reminder of what had transpired from herself and then slipped a nightshift over her head.

"There's the right thing to do, Evie," she quietly chastised herself as she moved on shaky legs to get some cool water to try to lower the temperature of her guest. "And then there's rubbing your girl parts against a total stranger like you're some common whore."

Her nervous hands fumbled as she gathered cloths and other things she would need. She tried to convince herself that he had been too strong for her to overpower. In her mind, she almost made herself a victim to his desires. It was wrong though. She could have pushed away from him. He wasn't that strong. She hadn't wanted to get away. She wanted to rub against him…wanted him to rub against her.

If the man's condition weren't so serious, she might have taken the time to weep for herself and her shameful behavior. But he was so terribly sick. His skin was so hot and his lungs sounded terrible.

She sighed as she sat down next to his bed. Looking at him she momentarily lost her focus on the task at hand. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She'd never be able to express how thankful she was to not have to face his deep, bottomless eyes after what had happened. And she tried not to think of when he did wake and what he would think. Would he think her loose? Would he expect even more? Would he ever remember? Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts from her head. Those questions only mattered if she got him well enough to wake. His life was in her hands.

Those hands trembled as she dipped a cloth into the cool water before pressing it to his face. Whoever he was and whatever he would think of her, the burden of his life felt so very heavy.

Eve watched as his face released tension with her ministrations. He had seemed so agitated still when she had sat down. But as she wiped the sweat from his brow, he settled some.

He was sweating so much. She pulled two of the quilts off of him to try to allow him to cool a bit.

"It'll be alright," she whispered, still too ashamed to speak too loudly to him. "I'm here. I'll take care of you."

His face tensed again and his body with it as if he was preparing to fight or run or perhaps both. From his lips came a strangled sound that might have been the word 'no.'

It made her wonder where he'd come from and if someone was chasing him. It wasn't danger she felt from him, it was fear. She reached and placed a hand gently on his shoulder trying hard to not think about the last time she had touched his shoulders, how she had gripped him so tightly, how her hands had trailed to his strong arms.

"I don't know what you're afraid of," she said gently. "You're safe though. No one ever finds this place. If they do, I have a shotgun and I know how to use it. Pa doesn't leave me unprotected. I won't let anyone hurt you."

She was able to get him settled some and allowed herself to try to get some sleep. It was hard with him so near. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to know what it might be like for him to kiss her. That was all wrong. What she had done already was wrong but thinking about him like that was even more wrong. She didn't even know his name. She might never.

The very thought chilled the blood in her veins and she shivered. This wasn't about failing yet another person entrusted to her care. She felt something for him. She was falling for a man she didn't even know. It was a ridiculous thought but it was happening all the same.

She was such a stupid girl. She'd never known a man at all before. And not just that she hadn't known one biblically…she really had only ever had her father and brother. There was a young man who lived not far off who went into town and sometimes fetched her things. And, on rare occasions, she went into town herself and exchanged the barest of conversation with a few people there. But she'd never had a man around who wasn't kin to her. Surely she wasn't really falling in love...she was falling in fascination. That was it. That had to be it.

Laying next to him, listening to his shallow and sometimes labored breathing, Eve fought to relax. She just could not seem to. Too many thoughts flooded her mind. What was she going to do to heal him? What should she use? Was he allergic to anything? She wondered what his voice sounded like when he wasn't fighting for his life or dreaming. Would he want to talk with her long into the night, soothing her with the sound of his voice? Nothing, it seemed would silence these thoughts and no matter which way she turned, she could not seem to get comfortable.

Finally she fell asleep. It wasn't a sound sleep. It was fitful and restless.

The light of a new day slowly brought her from the state that had passed for sleep. For a brief moment she thought she had a loose grasp on her disquieting dreams but then it vanished leaving nothing but an unsettled and nervous feeling.

In the light of morning, she took her first really good look at the man. Her edgy feeling left from whatever images had haunted her sleep seemed to lift some as she gazed upon his face. He was every bit as magnificent as she had thought he was. His features were strong and proud. His fever was no worse but, sadly, no better either.

She had let him sweat some of it out in the night but now felt a need to try to cool him. He was still a mess from his mud bath the night before so she decided on a sponge bath. After that she would see about medicines for his chest and maybe some tea. He couldn't eat in his state but if she could get some water into him, he might keep enough strength and the tea would keep him warm.

She got everything she needed around and then pulled the blankets off of him. She froze for a moment. She hadn't thought about this part. He was naked in front of her. Her eyes were drawn immediately to his groin. His manhood. The memory of where it had been, how hard it had been, what it felt like pressed tight to her made her stomach flip.

Forcing her eyes from the object of her interest, she appraised his powerful legs. Sighing, she took a cloth and soaked it in the cool water before wringing it out and moving to wipe down his legs. Her hands shook as she neared him. She wasn't sure what she was afraid of. He was unlikely to wake during this and he needed to be cleaned and cooled down.

At last she was able to get over her nerves and touch him. His skin burned under her fingertips and she wiped the cloth along the muscles of his thighs watching them flex under the cooling moisture. She moved then to his tight stomach. His skin was glorious and she was further intrigued by its rich, deep color. As she cleaned his stomach and then his chest, she was transfixed by how her hands looked so pale against his skin. By virtue of color alone, he seemed so much more substantial than she felt. So much stronger.

She usually didn't consider her golden skin to be this pale. Usually she liked it a lot and thought it looked almost like honey mixed with cream. But next to him, she felt ghostly white. Her skin didn't even look alive or human next to his. She'd seen dolls with complexions like how hers looked. They made her uneasy with how dead and fake they looked.

Eve brought herself out of her thoughts to realize she had been tracing the muscles on his chest for far too long to be proper. The blush rose to her cheeks even though there was no one there to see her acting in this wanton manner. No one but the man and if he noticed, he wasn't letting on.

She returned her focus to cleaning and cooling his fevered skin. First she wiped one arm and then the other. She could feel the strong muscles in his arms and once again thought what it might be like to be wrapped in such strength. It didn't give her the weak in her knees feeling that thoughts of his body usually did. Instead these thoughts made her feel warm and safe.

She couldn't complain about her life really. She worked hard but work was alright. She didn't mind working. There was a satisfaction to going to bed at night weary and ready for slumber. Eve wasn't looking for an easy life and never dreamt of one.

Still there was a wistful thought in her head to what it might be like to have someone to lean on, someone who would hold her, someone who would allow her fears and daydreams. She didn't know anything about this man but that made it all the easier to make him anything she might want in her mind.

Eve worked her way to his hands. Hands could tell a lot about a person. Eve knew hers spoke of her less than polished skill with a needle. She could sew and the product was fine but she stabbed herself with the needle far more often than most. Her hands also spoke of too much time in dishwater. This man's hands told her of a life of work. His rough and callused hands were sturdy and strong.

They were hands that she felt she could rely on. Hands that could be depended on. She dared to raise one strong hand to her face and pressed her lips to the back of it and then to each knuckle. Faintly she felt his fingers squeeze hers and her eyes flew to his face. There was no change there. He was still very much unconscious but something in her care was getting through to him. She took that as a good sign.

Turning her attention to his body once again, Eve realized she could no longer delay in what came next. She looked at his face once more to make sure he didn't seem close to waking. Then she centered her attention to his groin. Her fingers traced over his hip bones and she gasped at how soft the skin there was. She could feel where the strong muscles of his thighs branched away from his hips as she ghosted her hands over him.

Another glance to his still relaxed and unconscious face and she contemplated what else there was in front of her. She had felt it soft against her when she had climbed atop him and then hardened later. Honestly she hadn't spared this part of a man much thought before. Now, however, she was intensely curious. If he were awake, she might not dare to touch him. But he needed to be cleaned after all.

Cautiously she reached and touched it…his manhood. Instinctively her hand pulled back sharply upon meeting his flesh as if she had just touched a hot pan on the stove. She laughed at herself and chanced another look at his face. He was still out cold. She reached again and rested her fingers lightly along the softened organ. It amazed her how hard it had felt between her legs the night before and how soft and sponge-like it now felt.

Carefully she moved it out of her way and studied what hung beneath. She knew what all this was, of course but had never really studied them, especially on a person. She traced over the sack there and felt the objects within. It was fascinating really.

A soft groan brought her from her exploration of him. Frantically she looked to his face. His eyes were still closed and his brow furrowed slightly.

"I'm, uh…just cleaning you up," she said softly. "I'll be done in just a minute."

Eve wasn't sure he could hear her but she felt she had to say something. It wasn't right to take advantage of his position like she was. With no more delay she grabbed up a cool cloth and cleaned him up. It gave her a moment's pause when he began hardening under her touch. Sheepishly she stopped rubbing over him and quickly finished her task before covering him with just the sheet.

"There," she said a little stronger for no longer being distracted by his nakedness. "I'm going to let you cool off just a little. You stay right here now. I'm going to get some things to help you feel better. I promise you're going to be fine. You just have to be." It came out as a whispered plea, the last part, and she chided herself for her wistfulness.

Her father's sneering voice echoed in her head, "Wish in one hand and crap in the other, and see which one fills up first." She often wondered what he was trying to teach her with that saying. She felt like if she wished in both hands, they'd still be free to take action and make the wish come true. But, maybe she wasn't getting the point of the lesson. She sighed at herself and her wandering mind while her handsome man lay here waiting for her to make her wish come true.

_Her_ handsome man?

'There you go, Evie,' she thought to herself. 'Making up stories and tall tales. He's nothing of yours anymore than you'll be anything of his.'

Before standing and walking away, she took a moment to caress the side of his face.

"I wish I at least knew what to call you," she whispered tenderly. "Are you running from something or were you just trying to get home?"

Her fingers stroked over his cheekbone as she blinked back tears.

"Don't you worry," she went on. "I am going to get you better. I am. You're going to get well."

As she heated water for tea, she wanted to smack herself.

"That poor man put himself in your care, Eve Bradley," she whispered sternly. "And you take advantage of him. Never mind how wanton an act that is, it's just wrong to do that to someone so helpless. I think you know good and well what Mama would say right now and we don't even want to think about Pa. Why he'd have your head—or his."

She had to brace herself against the counter at the very thought of what her father would do to this man if he ever had half an inkling of her thoughts and actions. She'd seen men hanged and lynched. She knew the difference although either way, the poor man in the noose was dead. Eve was certain she could never bear it if that man in the bed were killed. Even less so if she had been the one to cause his death. She'd just have to get him healthy enough to travel before Pa got back. She should have a good solid week at the very least and more likely closer to three.

Eve settled herself next to the bed and looked once again on the handsome face of her guest. So often she had prayed for someone to come visit. Someone to break up the monotony of her life. This wasn't what she had in mind and she believed she should have been more specific in her prayers.

She placed a hand behind his head fascinated momentarily by the texture of his hair. Then she tilted his head up to allow her to get some tea into his mouth. She had made the tea with willow bark. She knew that he might feel pain with the fever but she had noted when Levi and Mama had been sick that their fevers began to lower when she gave them the willow bark.

Pa didn't support her using such methods but Eve could not shake the feeling that if she had been permitted to continue treating them as she wanted that they might still be alive. She had nothing to lose here. This man was dead unless she could save him.

Eve was able to get a good amount of the liquid into him before deciding that she could relax a little. She went to the table where she had left her book the evening before and thought about sitting where she had been. Instead she decided to sit by the bedside and read to the man.

"I don't know if you like books or reading," she began. "I do. It can get awful boring around here. I guess you're sort of a captive audience though. If you don't like the story or my reading then I guess you'll just have to get better quick and tell me about it."

Then she settled in and read a chapter of the book to him. He didn't move. Of course she didn't expect him to either.

Two days passed in much this same way. She used cool water to try to bring his temperature down and blankets to keep him from shivering from the cold water. She made him tea of willow bark to try to draw his fever down and when he groaned as if aching. There was chamomile tea for when he seemed restless and other teas to try to bring down the fever and draw some of the rattling matter from his chest.

Once he seemed to wake up but she realized his fever was still raging. He tried to leave but she fought him and got him back into bed and covered up. He had looked so frightened and wild-eyed then. She didn't know what to think.

At night she slept next to him. She didn't get too close to him though. Eve still wasn't sure what to think about what had happened between them and she didn't want to risk it happening again without at least being able to talk to him.

She slept little and forgot most of the time to eat. Never in her life had she been this tired. Even with Mama and Levi, she had gotten more rest.

One morning she woke and, as was her routine, placed a hand on his forehead. She was so used to feeling the heat radiating off of him that she nearly stood and began to ready for the bath that came next and the teas that needed to be made.

But something stopped her. There was no heat radiating. His face was cool. Not cold as it had been when she brought him in from the rain but cool. She leaned and pressed her cheek to his forehead. There was no difference between the feel of his skin and hers.

Eve felt such relief that she thought she might faint right there. Her body slumped against the pillows and she began to shake. Then the tears came. It frightened her to think that she had such strong feelings for him so quickly.

Her shaking and crying bordered on hysteria and it frightened her more than the feelings she had no right to have toward this man. Gratitude for his improved condition was merited. Relief that she would not be burying a stranger anytime soon was surely allowed but her reaction now…it was almost as if he was something to her or she to him.

A few deep breaths and she was able to wipe her eyes with the cloth she clutched through the night to mop his brow when his dreams frightened him to waking...or her own mind urged her to make sure he was still among the living.

She shifted back and looked at him trying to think of what she should do next. He was still unconscious and she wasn't sure if he was just sleeping or if it was something else.

Eve was just about to try shaking him gently to see if he would wake so she could better assess his condition when his whole body jerked and he gave a soft groan. It startled her so that she swore she might have jumped a full foot off of the bed. Before she could even turn her head to look at his face, his hand was tight around her wrist and he was sitting up looking frantically around the room.

"What-?...Where-?"

Eve wanted to soothe him, to tell him he was safe and he should rest but then he turned his dark eyes on her. They were frightening in their intensity. He was terrified and looking to ready himself for a fight if it came to that.

"Who are you?"

* * *

**Yeah this took a while...good thing that this isn't one of my epics...Anyway...I didn't forget about poor, sick Noah. Or poor Eve...I have been working on this in between other things for a little while now. **

**So...got Noah awake and his fever broken...that's good, right?**

**So...let me know what you think of this. I still really like Eve. Oh and so you know, I have some special things planned for next month too...so that's something to look forward to.**

**As always, I could not have done this without my dear, sweet Gertrude. Well, I could have but it would have been nowhere near this good. It just wouldn't.**

**Oh yeah...and happy Valentine's Day to you all. I love each and every one of you. I do. Really!-J**


	3. Chapter 3

Noah was lost. It was hot and there was no relief from the incessant heat. His mouth was parched and his skin felt on fire. He felt like he'd been wandering for days, maybe even weeks.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten to this...wherever it was. This god forsaken barren wasteland. There was fear-even though he wasn't sure what he was afraid of. Maybe someone was chasing him, he thought. For some reason he was in danger. He just knew it.

From somewhere came a gentle breeze, a light fall of rain. Something, somewhere was telling him he wasn't alone. Maybe telling him that God or angels looked out for him. He felt safe. There was danger but somehow he was being shielded.

The first thing Noah was truly aware of-when he became aware that he hadn't been conscious and now was-was the terrible taste in his parched mouth. It was as if cotton dredged through the essence of everything bitter had replaced the flesh in his mouth. He scowled at that awareness.

Next he realized that the blankets were stuck to his sweaty skin. He was sticky and wet and felt grimy. He also felt a hand soft on his forehead. It was a gentle touch and a small hand he guessed to belong to a woman.

As he further clawed his way to consciousness, he heard birds outside a window and the ragged breathing of someone crying. Not just crying, sobbing...nearly hysterical. He fought even harder to come back into a state that resembled living and waking. He could smell what he thought might be himself. It wasn't a pleasant smell although somewhere deep in the scent he thought he picked up a hint of peppermint that wasn't horrible. But also he caught a light whiff of flowers. Very light, like spring blossoms carried on a breeze...it was how Rachel often smelled.

Slowly he worked his way to opening his eyes against the light of what looked to be a new morning. There was a woman in the bed kneeling next to him on his right. She was drying her eyes with a cloth, so he couldn't see her face. Who was she? Did he know her? His heart stuttered in his chest with impatience and need. He closed his eyes again, already weary from the effort of waking. He watched her through half lidded eyes as she brought the cloth from her face.

His heart stopped, he knew it did. Even from between his nearly closed eyelids, through the curtain of his lashes, he could see what he thought was a goddess from Valhalla or Olympus from a book he had read long ago. He couldn't even describe her as a beautiful woman, that was insufficient. With her skin like a porcelain doll. And thick lashes that made her wide hazel-green eyes look even larger. Her shining brown hair was flecked with strands of gold that caught the light as she jumped and settled back sitting just a bit further away from him. He could see the subtle bounce of her breasts behind the veil of her long hair. He tried not to look, but was compelled by a force older than time itself. Through his eyelashes, he saw the silhouette of her body through the thin, worn cotton of her night shift.

His hands itched to reach for that hair, just to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked. he thought he should already know but how could he? He could scarcely pull his gaze from her full lips pulled into a slight purse. They made him think of peaches adrift in a bowl of cream.

His eyes rolled back in his head, momentarily, as he envisioned her reaching out to him. Touching him. Pressing her lips against him. Anywhere and everywhere. Her hair trailing behind, caressing his skin, heating him up from the inside. His breath sped up. Her hand on his stomach, lightly traveling to his navel, then her fingers tracing the line below it to where the sheet stopped. But she didn't. Her hand pushed the sheet- 'Noah! Damnit! You could be just seconds away from a hangin' and you're...' he couldn't bring himself to even finish the thought. 'Focus, man, foc-'

His eye caught movement. She was reaching out to him. Before he could marshal a response, his body jerked, eager to feel her hand upon his skin once again. The sudden movement shot pain throughout his aching muscles and he groaned. 'What the hell? What happend to me? Why do I hurt so damn bad?'

He grabbed for her wrist before she, in her startled state, could move to pull it back. He was in pain. He didn't recognize where he was. He didn't know where he was. He tried to take in everything all at once. Nothing was familiar. He needed to know where he was, who she was, and was he safe?

"What-?" What was he even trying to ask? "Where-?" The question died on his tongue and his mind landed on what he felt he needed to know more than anything else. He looked at her squarely.

"Who are you?"

* * *

Eve looked down at the hand clasped tightly around her wrist. She was arrested by The contrast of their skin. His grasp on her was nearly frantic, his hand was so strong. She looked at him with wide eyes. His dark eyes calmed slightly and his fierce grip on her loosened until his fingers merely cradled her wrist gently. She could have pulled away...if she had wanted to.

His thumb slowly, almost absently began to rub tiny circles on the inside of her wrist. It was tender and gentle and made her heart flutter. She knew his hands were calloused and work worn but this hand felt soft against her skin and his movements against her wrist were gentle and soothing.

She could not help the way her breath caught in her throat as he rubbed gently over that skin she had never realized was so sensitive. She could feel heat rise from her bosom and then over her neck until it reached her face. She worried momentarily that she was beginning to catch his fever.

Eve caught just a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye. It came from beneath the sheet covering him. She thought maybe he was moving his other hand but both hands were above the sheet. Realization hit her. The heat of her face became stronger and then there was new heat forming a coil in her lower belly. It was an unfamiliar sensation but she liked it. She bit her lip as she allowed her eyes to fall closed, trusting this man implicitly.

She could hear his breathing quicken. From somewhere she heard a sigh and something like a whimper and then understood it had come from her. That made her open her eyes and look upon him once more.

He mumbled, "Sorry," releasing her wrist. Her stomach fluttered as she remembered another apology from the same full lips a few days earlier. His sudden glance up to her, full of guilt and remorse made her think that maybe he was remembering the same thing. Did he remember his apology as well? She furrowed her brow, praying her shame was for her alone to recall.

"What did I do?" He whispered hoarsely.

She looked down in mortification. 'Please, God, Please don't let him remember my brazen and shameless behavior. I'd bring shame on my family if he knew, and certainly turn his deep, dark brown eyes away from me. Please, God, Please!'

Eve's thoughts gave way to the question he had voiced. She thought he was asking himself more than her but he looked to her with such a need. She couldn't very well tell him but she had to say something. She had to reassure him in some way. His eyes were too wide, they contained too much fear. It was in her power to help him, to comfort him.

She attempted to speak. She opened her mouth to. He reached out to grasp her hand gently. Her breath, again, failed to go into or out of her lungs. She wanted to touch him, to have him touch her, but didn't want him to know how much she wanted it. She didn't know him. She didn't know what he wanted or why and it suddenly was so frightening to think that he might know what she felt, what she desired.

He blinked, shaking his head and staring at the sheet on top of him. "I ... I can't remember..." His eyes began to water and he closed them. They were so beautiful, so full of longing and hurt and tenderness...she already missed them.

'Find your voice, Evie! Say something, damn it!' Eve screamed inside her own head. She needed him to look at her. She needed contact with him. She needed to not be alone. He made her not alone. She needed him even if she didn't understand it.

"It's alright!" She blurted out, shocking his eyes back open.

She looked down quickly, berating herself. 'Settle down, Evie.'

"It's ... alright," she muttered trying to cover her sudden outburst as heat flooded her face. "I mean... You shouldn't feel bad if you can't remember."

Peering up at him through her lashes, she was relieved that he seemed to not remember her wantonness.

"You've been very sick," she added lowering her eyes again.

'I'm sure he knows that, stupid,' she thought echoing her father's frequent admonishments to her. 'Try again.'

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him narrow his eyes on her. He hadn't moved his head much, so she knew he was tired, but her gut told her he was a shrewd, smart man, and he'd figure things out sooner or later.

His eyes slowly went from suspiciously narrowed to closed in exhaustion.

She leaned over a little closer, not even knowing if he was awake enough to still hear her, and whispered, "I'm Eve."

His head jerked towards her, and one of his eyes opened to fix upon hers blearily. She wondered if he remembered her saying that before

"Noah," he croaked in a near whisper.

Noah! His name was Noah! She swallowed a smile, finally allowing a tiny shy grin to grace her lips. A strong, solid name. A good old biblical name. Her heart's joy was overwhelming. She wanted to sing it out. Noah! But her glee was short lived as she watched him wince with the effort of the single word and then trying to swallow.

"Water. You need water, Noah."

'Stop being an idiot, Eve!' she chastised herself. 'He already knows he needs water. Just get the water for the poor man.'

She stood quickly and then felt his eyes on her. Suddenly she felt far too exposed in her thin nightshift and threw a robe over herself and tied it quickly trying not to notice the way his breathing seemed to come faster or the look in his eyes. The pain looked to have left them and allowed something akin to desire in its place.

She bustled away as quickly as she could. He remembered. He did as sure as her name was Eve Bradley. How was she supposed to face him now? What would he want from her? Would he want anything at all? Would it be better or worse if he now wanted nothing to do with her?

"Oh Evie," she whispered to herself as she made him some tea for what she could still hear rattling in his lungs. "You sure made a mess of things now. You and your wanton ways."

The tea was ready and she could no longer put off going back to him...to Noah. In spite of herself she smiled to think of him. To think she now knew what to call him. Noah. A good Christian name. Her mother would have approved. Of course his name might be the only thing Ruth Bradley would have approved of in this situation.

Sighing and shaking her head at herself, she carried the tea and a glass of cool water to him. Water would quench his thirst but the steam and herbs in the tea would loosen what still obstructed his lungs.

Her walk slowed the closer she got to the bed. The panic rose in her chest threatening to stop her heart, her breathing. She could not face him and yet there was no choice. There was no one else here to care for him...for Noah. He was still sick and needed her help. He needed her to be brave. All the times she wished to live a life like Gulliver or the other intrepid heroes in her books, she never once pondered if she had the courage to actually do what she would have to do.

Determined now to do what needed to be done, Eve set her jaw and continued to where Noah lay under the sheet, the quilt having been tossed away due to the heat of his fever. She forced her best effort at a sunny smile when he opened his eyes to her.

"Can you sit up a bit, Noah?" she asked hurrying to his side. Her stomach flipped even as she felt the tension leave her shoulders with his nearness to her. "Or do you need a little help?"

Without even waiting for his reply, she sat down the beverages in her hands and moved to him. He sat up a little and she used her body to brace his as she adjusted the pillows so that when he relaxed he would be closer to upright. His solid body resting against hers felt so very right. As she moved the pillows behind him, she felt him relax to her, felt his arms move tentatively and a strong hand rest lightly on her side at the curve of her hip.

His movements were tender and calm but his heart was beating fiercely in his chest as if trying to escape. She wanted to think it was because he felt something for her, that he remembered what happened and it meant something to him as well. This was not the time to even ponder such things.

"You must be parched," she went on not daring to give him time to speak. "Here's some water. Drink it easy though so you don't make yourself sick. You've been living on just little sips I've been able to get down you."

She watched as he greedily took a few large gulps of the liquid. His eyes closed in relief and then opened and focused intently on her. She wanted to run from the intensity of his gaze but she stood stock still and tried to meet his deep and lovely eyes.

Eve felt she could see the whole world in those eyes. Every heartbreak ever suffered, every joy ever celebrated, every fear, everything. But most of all she could see his frustration. He seemed to be begging her or perhaps his own mind to unlock the secrets that were still covered in clouds. He remembered some, she surmised, but not everything and his furrowed brow and internal struggle spoke of a desperation to know, to understand...to remember.

"How long?" he rasped finally seeming to give up seeking all the answers for a time.

"Pardon?"

"How long was I...out? How long on just the sips of water?"

Every word from him it seemed had to be searched for, selected, studied and then forced from his chapped lips. His face was still tense, nearly scowling.

"Th-three days, I think. I wasn't really thinking about that."

"My horse-"

"I took care of him," she reassured him. "He's in the barn. He's very protective of you. I made sure to give him a few treats as a reward. He's a good boy."

'Shut up, Eve!' she screamed in her head. 'You're rambling like some crazy woman. He'll never get better with you acting like this. Pretend you've been around people before, girl!'

"You should drink this tea," she said quickly holding it out to him.

He took it and sniffed cautiously before pulling his face away and scowling at the cup in his hand.

"Thought that shit Buck makes was bad," he muttered.

Eve wrinkled her forehead at him in confusion for a moment and then squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"I know...it smells terrible." she said gently as if to a child. "There's all kinds of stuff in there. I think the worst of it is the willow bark. That's bitter but you've been acting like you're aching and that'll help. And I added some honey so it doesn't taste nearly as bad as it smells. I promise."

She could see Noah's hands shake as he lifted the cup to his lips. He wasn't frightened of her, that was clear. He seemed...fascinated. And weak, he was very weak.

"Do you need some help?" she asked. "You can't have much strength after all you've been through."

He shook his head weakly.

"How...did I get here?"

"I guess it depends what you're asking whether or not I even have the answer," she replied trying to at least pretend to be brave or act confident. "I don't know where you came from or how you came to be in my yard. I merely heard your horse and there you were. But if you're asking how you ended up in this bed? Well, that took some doing. You were so sick and barely conscious. I thought...I thought you might not wake."

Eve cringed at the fear that crept into her voice at the last of her words. It startled her when his hand rested over her own and his fingers rubbed feather light over her skin. Eve could feel her skin flush at his touch and an aching heat move through her until it settled between her legs, a reminder of where he had been.

She shook her head. This was an effort to comfort her. Nothing more. But it was still an act of comfort...for her. She blinked and swallowed, tamping down the emotion that stirred within her at such a simple and tender gesture.

His eyes held hers as if they cradled something precious and fragile as he worked his mouth to form words. She wasn't sure if lack of use was the problem with his mouth and voice or if he just wasn't sure what to say or how to go about it. There was a sudden longing in her to somehow help him, to take away his struggle but she could only watch and encourage with her own expression.

Eve leaned forward to catch whatever he might be trying to say. She couldn't find the words for him but she could make it less work for him to be heard. She could see his eyes drop from hers to where the top of her nightshift gaped and showed the rounded tops of her breasts. She flushed a deeper crimson at noticing this but felt no need or want to move or cover herself. His breathing became erratic as he still tried to speak.

"Whe-" he began, in an effort to ask her another question but his words were cut off by deep and painful sounding coughing. Eve deftly snatched the cup from his hands before any could spill on him and yanked the pillows away that had propped him up, rolling him onto his side in the process.

She pounded gently between his shoulder blades and then rubbed his back firmly until the coughing subsided. Leaning over him, she gently caressed his stubble covered cheek with her hand.

"Go ahead a spit that stuff out," she said holding the cloth that had mopped his brow through the night to his mouth. "I know the coughing hurts but you can't have that in your lungs...well...not if we want you to get better."

He spat the ugly green matter onto the cloth allowing her to wipe his mouth. He then took a few labored breaths.

"Do you?" he asked weakly, almost frail sounding.

"Do I what, Noah?"

"Do you want me to get better, Eve?"

Her heart soared to hear him speak her name. Even in his vulnerable state, his voice was a low rumble that vibrated to her very soul.

"I do, Noah. I can't think of anything I want more than for you to be well."

Her voice cracked with the fear that she had felt for him over the last few days.

His arm moved helplessly as if reaching for something out of his grasp.

"Let me see you," he whispered and his voice, his face, none of his being, it seemed, could mask the emotion. Eve knew it was gratitude for being cared for and not actually emotion for her but she would take anything she could get from him.

Without breaking contact with him, she climbed over and knelt in front of him making a mental note to put the pillows behind him. She didn't dare to let him rest on his back yet.

"I'm right here," she whispered with a smile she hoped was reassuring. She knew her face was flushed. Having climbed over, brushing against him...the memory of feeling him beneath her. But she couldn't think of that now. She had to be brave and strong for him...for Noah.

He once again seemed to be reaching helplessly with his arm and she furrowed her brow at him. She took his hand in the hopes of calming him and was surprised by the strength with which he pulled her to him. He looked so tired but then he found words.

"An angel," he managed softly, reverently, as if praying. He clutched her hand tight to his chest. "_My_ angel. I knew someone was watching over me, protecting me. I felt it. When I couldn't feel anything else, I felt that. I'll get better for you, Evie. I will."

Her face was mere inches from his and she nodded solemnly.

"I'll be right here, Noah. I won't leave you."

His features relaxed for the first time since he opened his eyes and he offered something of a smile. It wasn't much but it hinted at the sort of wide and bright smile that could make her weak in the knees. He nodded to her before allowing his eyes to close. Eve watched as the tension left the rest of his body. Even his grasp on her hand loosened. She chanced to kiss his brow and saw the corners of his mouth twitch in his sleep.

"Rest now, dear Noah," she whispered gently to his sleeping form before settling back and watching him sleep.

As his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her hands ceased their shaking and the muscles in her neck relaxed. He would be alright. He said he would and something about him told her he didn't give his word lightly. Of course anything he promised her was sure to be purely from gratitude for her seeing to him.

But then...he called her an angel..._his_ angel. He said he could feel her presence. He called her Evie. He had needed her hand. He smiled when she kissed him.

Eve allowed herself a few moments to daydream. Normally the realm of strange people from distant lands, her daydreams now included only one other beside herself. Noah. Her beautiful Noah. Sitting by a fire reading to each other, his strong and weathered hand holding hers gently, gazing into his deep chocolate eyes and seeing...love. She could not help the sigh that escaped her at that thought.

'Dream all you want, Evie,' the voice inside her head said bringing her back to reality. 'He's nothing of yours and won't ever be if you don't get a move on so you can help him get better.'

Sighing, she got up from the bed and got dressed so that she could get to the rest of her day. She needed to see to his horse and then get around some clean sheets for when he woke. She hoped she could help him into a tub. He would feel so much cleaner that way and that would go farther to helping him feel better. Besides, if she could immerse him in hot water, it might help loosen what was still in his lungs.

Once dressed, she paused and went back to the side of the bed and ran her fingers lightly over the contours of his face.

"I'm going to hold you to your word, Noah," she said softly. "I'm not sure how I'd cope if anything happened to you so you better have meant it when you said you'd get well."

Patting the side of his face lightly, she smiled once more at him and even dared to bend down and press a soft kiss to his cheek. She'd need to see about a shave for him too when he woke. Then she stood and left him to his rest.

* * *

**So that's where we are...and yeah it did need to take this long to write this chapter...there's a lot going on in there...A lot! Trust me, there is.**

**I still adore Eve. She's precious. I have to admit that I know much more about her and her life than the rest of you do...with the exception of Gert who is one SICK PUPPY! Just sayin'...**

**So...hopefully it doesn't take nearly as long to get the next chapter up and running...but with the POV that we've set up, it does take the two of us a good long while to figure out what needs doing. **

**So until next time...love to all!-J**


	4. Chapter 4

Noah's dreams were warm and unhurried as summer Sunday afternoons.

* * *

She's everywhere. Her smile, her hair shining in the sun, her hands moving as she speaks as if dancing every word. Her voice, her laughter, her singing. She fills every corner of him, makes him more, makes him stronger.

Their fingers intertwine tightly, dark brown woven inextricably with cream. It feels so right.

He touches her. She is all he sees. Eve in a field of flowers. Eve standing in the kitchen washing dishes. Eve sitting close to him on a porch. Her warm body tight against his.

His fingers drift over her stomach. Upward toward her breasts. Her small and delicate fingers stroke lightly over his arm. The feather light touch raises the hairs on his arm.

She takes his hand. Leads him into the house. Couch or bed?

He takes the decision from her when he wraps his arm around her waist right there in the living room. He pushes his hardness against her soft bottom. He rocks himself against her cleft. She moans, wrapping her arm around his neck behind her. Pulls his head down to meet her neck. He caresses the skin there softly with his lips. Her lips on his cheek. His hand caresses her soft mound through her blouse. His other hand pushes down into the front of her skirt. She gasps in his ear at his forwardness. His shamelessness.

She smiles against his skin. His delicious, smooth skin. She pushes back against him. He strains against his pants. His fingers push past her trappings and fastenings, unerringly honing in her heat. His fingers find her curls, wet and ready for him.

He shudders in anticipation and excitement against her delicate form. She trembles in eagerness and desire. His fingers push through her curls, stroking her folds. She moans into his ear. His other hand releases her breast it has held hostage and reaches down to pull at the hem of her skirt. She nips at his ear, breathless from anticipation.

He turns her to the wall next to the door. He cannot hold back long enough to unfasten her skirt. She doesn't mind. She whispers encouragement and desire into his ear. Without preamble, he pushes her skirts above her hips. She reaches behind with her unoccupied hand, freeing him from his pants. He shakes with need, pushing her up against the wall. Her hand guides him between her soft cheeks to her ready heat. Her breath catches in her throat as his hardness lodges at her soft womanhood.

He wraps a hand under her arm, over her shoulder, holding her in place. She breathes, "Please."

He pushes. The silk of her folds envelops him in her hot embrace. The slide of his stiffness inside her velvety tightness pools liquid warmth at the base of his spine. He takes his hand from her skirt and braces himself on the wall.

He pushes her up against the wall, pushing deeper inside her. She gasps and whimpers for more. Her warmth feels like a tight sheath of heaven around him. He feels the pool of liquid warmth start to bubble as he pushes deeper inside her. Her hand slaps down on his against the wall. She wraps her fingers between his, as her world becomes focused on the point where they are joined.

She pushes back against him with a moan, her lower lip between her teeth. He pulls out, then slides home forcefully. She groans, "Yes."

He can't get enough of her around him. She belongs to him. He slides out and pushes in again, hard and demanding. Her muscles around him flutter, a teasing and massaging that pulls a low growl from him into her ear.

He can't stop his vicious claiming of her. He needs her like he needs air. His hand on her shoulder pulls her down on him forcefully as he dips his head and suckles on her neck. She tastes of salt and air, of peppermint and green. Her stuttered breath and undulating muscles tell him of her imminent arrival.

She whispers his name in a moan, as a prayer. Never has his name sounded so holy. He is one with her. She will be his. He is already hers.

She cries out in fulfillment. He bites down on her shoulder possessively, growling her name as he fills her with his essence and desire. He shudders as he releases himself, grasping her tight to him, their two bodies becoming one.

His sweat drips down onto her neck, back and shoulders. She relaxes against him, her lips on his neck, pressing soft kisses along his muscles. She lowers herself from him as he slips out of her. He gasps at the sudden separation of their bodies.

He wraps his arm around her stomach, holding her tight against him. She lowers further. He pulls her tighter.

She feels ephemeral, ethereal.

"I love you," she whispers, panic seeping into her voice. "Hold me. Hold me tighter."

A breeze gusts through. Grains of her start blowing in the gust. Slivers of her being follow the breeze out of his arms. He reaches for her pieces. They shatter into sawdust.

He holds her tighter. She slips through his fingers.

"NO!" He yells helplessly.

"Noah!" she cries. "Hold me! Don't let go. Never let me go!"

Tears slip over his cheeks unheeded.

"Eve!"

"I love you," she sobs, her voice echoing in the void. "I don't want to go. Please...don't leave me...Noah...Please..."

"EVE! NO!" he bellows into the emptiness.

* * *

"Eve!"

The cry tore from Noah's throat, breaking Eve's concentration on her mending. Her heart thundered at the suddenness of his outburst, and her stomach twisted at his anguished cry. Dropping the sewing, she gathered her skirts and rushed to his side. His desperation and fear cut through her. His need for her gave her feet wings.

"I'm right here, Noah," she said gently as she hurried to his side. "You're alright."

He was sitting, pushing his back against the headboard in fear. He turned his wide eyes to her, reaching for her with trembling arms. She let out a little, "Oof," as he pulled her into his arms desperately. Hesitantly she wrapped her arms around his bare back as he buried his head into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply. He pulled her tighter, pulling her body onto his lap as he held her close.

"But are _you_?" he muffled into her neck. "Are you alright, Eve?"

"Of course I'm alright, Noah...I am just fine. It's you I'm worried for." She caressed his back, running her hands over his skin softly, trying to comfort him. He shivered. From the cool air, he decided. "You sounded like you'd just seen the devil himself. What frightened you so?"

He wrinkled his forehead and shook his head. She smelled so damn good. Like comfort. Like home. He stopped his thinking before he went any further. He rested his head on her shoulder, separated from her skin by the thin peach cloth of her blouse.

"I can't say exactly," he said sounding frustrated. "I was dreaming and I think most of the dreams were nice enough." He tried not to blush.

Noah started to realize how hard he was, and how his hardness was pushing against Eve's skirt-clad thigh. She didn't seem to notice. He pretended not to notice as well. He swallowed hard to collect himself before continuing to speak.

"But then I…I just felt terrified that you were in…danger…That…that there was something wrong. I," he sighed, realizing how crazy he sounded, "felt like I needed to save you." He lowered his head, almost resting his forehead on her shoulder again. He was concerned for her. Her heart leapt for joy.

"If you want to do something for me," Eve said trying to hide her elation at both his concern and his body pressing tightly against hers, "Put your attentions to getting better."

She felt his hardness against her thigh. She caught her breath silently. She didn't want him to move.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She giggled lightly at him.

"At least you're a cooperative patient."

"With a nurse like you...I would think anyone would want to cooperate," he said, trying for a smile. Did she know how that sounded? Was she too innocent to know how bad that sounded coming from his lips? Did she muse over all the ways she might want him to cooperate as he did? "Except for that terrible tea," he grimaced.

"That terrible tea," she sniffed indignantly as she pushed herself almost reluctantly from his lap, "is going to save your life. You're not well yet. I can still hear you wheezing. Be glad for that tea, Noah. The doctor would just bleed you and drain every bit of strength you have. He'd kill you like he did Mama and Levi." She trailed off, eyes misting with memories and failures.

Noah looked up at her in question.

"They were sick too," she explained with a sigh, her eyes drifting off. "I knew the tea was helping. They were getting stronger and their lungs were clearing. But Pa didn't trust the herbs in the tea. Said it smacked of witchcraft and injun savagery." She looked down in shame. Noah frowned. This was no shame of hers. "He got the doctor and the doctor bled them. He bled them right to death." Looking up fiercely, she stated protectively, "I will not let that happen to you, Noah. I will not fail you like I did them."

She looked away abruptly as if she had spoken too much or was ashamed of her words. Noah lifted his arm to reach for her, opened his mouth as if to say something to comfort her in some way but she bustled away before he could.

"I need to get a bath ready for you," she hurried away.

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, Evie," she chastised herself quietly once she believed she was out of earshot. "Making him think you're some kind of witch woman. You're spending too much time wanting him and not nearly enough time healing him."

Eve took a moment to lean against the counter. From where he was in the cabin, he couldn't see her, but he could hear her. She had sort of curtains around her space to give her privacy when her father was home. Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them back.

"You have to stop with this wanton behavior," she whispered fighting the nearly tearful catch in her throat. "Look what you're doing to that poor man. It's not how Mama raised you. You know what Pa says...and you know he's right."

She sighed heavily and set to heating water and collecting herbs. She wanted to include some of them in the hot bath water for him to inhale and soak in as he bathed. He wouldn't like it but she knew this would help. She just knew. Pa might not have faith in it and probably Noah didn't either. Pa was right about so much but not this.

He said she failed them by letting them die. He said it was the herbs and teas that did it, that killed them. She knew in her heart, where no one could dispute it, that he was wrong. She was responsible for their deaths, that much was true. But it was because she didn't fight hard enough to do things she knew needed to be done.

She could not fail Noah too. It didn't matter what had happened between them or what it stirred within her. She just couldn't be the reason another fellow human being was rotting in the ground instead of walking on the earth.

He studied her silently as she made the multiple trips with hot water from the stove to the large tub. Questions flooded his mind. Why was she alone? Was she really alone? Who was responsible for her? What made her smile? What brought her joy? And maybe the most important question of all, why had she taken him in like she did?

He wanted to ask so much but she was busy, focused on her task. He opened his mouth once or twice to speak but it didn't seem right to interrupt her. Or maybe, he allowed only to himself, he was just afraid of the answers.

Eve felt Noah's eyes on her the entire time. She was no stranger to being watched. Her father kept a close eye on her when he was home. But this was so different. It was a difference she wasn't sure how to process. Noah's eyes made her feel…protected and adored, even though she had, in essence, just met him. Pa's eyes somehow made her feel exposed, dirty. Like she was constantly doing something wrong. She wasn't sure how that was. Pa loved her. He told her all the time how she reminded him so of her mother. Even with her limited knowledge of the world, Eve knew that her parents had shared a love the storybooks couldn't have dreamed up.

Noah kept his watch from the sickbed. His heart nearly froze every time she left his sight, even though he could hear her and her confusing mutterings. He knew the relief was evident on his face every time she returned to him. Still he could not hide frown that formed when she sprinkled those nasty herbs into the steaming water.

"I know they don't smell the best," she conceded with a shrug. "Well, except for the peppermint. That smells nice. I promise they'll help."

"I believe you," Noah said and his tone was so clear and honest that she jerked her head up to meet his eyes. The look he gave her said that he would believe the grass was made of licorice and the rivers of maple syrup if she wanted to spin such a yarn.

"Well, uh...you won't have to believe me," she stammered suddenly feeling very warm. It must be because of the hot water. "I'll prove it to you. You'll see for yourself when you're well and...riding out of here to wherever it is you needed to get to before."

She paused and looked at him. It was almost indiscernible but she thought she saw a shadow cross his face when she mentioned his leaving.

She came back to the bed and held her hands out to him, offering assistance.

"Your bath is ready. Can you sit up on your own?"

"Yes, I can sit up, Eve," he said not even trying to veil his indignation. "I can stand too."

She fought a smile at his near childlike sullen attitude.

Raising an eyebrow at his tone, she shrugged, "I'll just be right here in case you need me."

He glanced at her through narrowed eyes, as she stood by the bath, waiting for him. Her eyes were dancing. He felt a little peeved.

"Eve, I'm naked," he pointed out.

"I know you're naked, Noah," she said trying to keep her tone matter-of-fact and not let him see the blush rise to her cheeks or the way her hands shook at the memory of his body. She clasped them behind her back. "I was the one who undressed you. I've been bathing you all this time. I know it isn't proper and it probably makes you feel uncomfortable but there's no one else here and..."

Her voice trailed away helplessly.

"It's not my embarrassment I'm trying to save. You're a good woman, Evie. I don't want to offend you or make you feel uncomfortable."

She could swear her heart stopped from his words. He was trying to save her from embarrassment? He thought she was a good woman? She stared at him in wonderment.

Papa never said such things to her or about her. To him she was "good for nothing" and "a waste of space" and "only good for one thing as a woman." That last one she wasn't sure she quite understood. But, he said he was going to show her when he got back from this trip, so maybe she could learn what else she needed to do as a woman to make him happy.

She almost didn't hear him say Evie again, but when she realized he did, she thought her whole body would shut down. What next? Would he hold her cheek in the palm of his hand and kiss her? Wrap his arms around her and hold tight forever? She wanted him to be the father of her children. But first, she figured she should probably stop biting her lip and staring at him like a damned fool, and say something useful.

"Just get in the tub before the water cools, Noah."

Eve knew she sounded stern but she was trying to get her heart to calm down. He had called her Evie again. It just sounded so magical from his lips. If she could run down the center of town screaming at the top of her lungs in celebration, she would. As it was, she had to get him in the tub. She had to focus.

Noah looked at her, slightly worried. She was biting her lip and staring at him. If he didn't know better, he'd say stars took up residence in her eyes, because that's what it looked like. He'd be damned if it didn't look like she got all soft and angel like. Her soft skin just beckoning to be touched, her pinkened cheeks calling to his lips, her peach lips…He grabbed onto the sheet and steadied himself. He almost leaned in and took over the lip biting job for her. Damn, she was the sweetest thing he'd ever spent time with. So innocent, honest, pure, sweet. Maybe he'd just start with licking her lip, and let the biting and nibbling come later. He started at the thought of any amount of 'later' with her.

Noah sat up. He wouldn't let her down. He had to get well for her. He had to be strong for her. His dream haunted him. He'd make everything alright for her. Somehow. He felt relatively strong. He was still steady while swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He felt alright. The floor was chilly to his bare feet, but he braved it. He could handle it. Pushing his fists down on the bed to push up, his arms started shaking. It was to be expected, he figured.

Eve watched and held her breath, forcing herself to keep her eyes from...there. It was enough just watching the muscles work in his arms as he tried to push himself upward. She sucked her lips into her mouth and chewed lightly on them as she willed him to succeed. And willed herself to keep control. She was supposed to be there to catch him if he fell. Yet she stood on wobbling legs wondering who would catch her.

Noah made it to standing still feeling something close to steady. But he soon realized that he wasn't as strong as he thought he was. Eve stood there bouncing on her heels and clasping her hands as if her upward motion could keep him upright. Maybe if he hadn't taken note of her sparkling, hopeful eyes or the way her breasts undulated beneath her blouse with each bounce...maybe then he could have kept his footing. Maybe he could have even figured a way to maneuver himself toward the tub. But he noticed and they took whatever strength he had right out of his legs.

She watched him rise from the bed. Watched the muscles in his arms quiver as he pushed himself up, saw the concentration etched on his face. For one breathless moment their eyes connected and she fought to give him every ounce of her strength if it would keep him upright. It meant a lot to him, she could tell. But then his legs just gave way and he sagged back onto the edge of the bed as if thoroughly defeated.

"Well, you haven't eaten in days," she offered softly. "You were nearly frozen to death when I brought you in and then your fever raged for so long—I'd go so far as to say you nearly died. You couldn't honestly think you'd be as strong as you were before, could you? Please, let me help you."

Noah pondered her words. In the back of his mind he knew on some level how little food he'd consumed over the last few days but it was merely a side note. He felt hungry, yes, but not for food. Her soft hair, the hope in her dancing eyes, the curves hinted at by the cinched waist of her brown skirt and the scooped neckline of her blouse...hunger had a new meaning for him now.

He scarcely noticed the shifting of the mattress as she sat down next to him. If he had stood in the room and seen the two of them, Eve in her perfectly proper brown skirt and peach calico print blouse with her hair pinned up neatly and him, naked as the day he came screaming into the world...he would have probably been shocked but then she offered no apology and asked none of him.

Instead she took his arm that was nearest her and pulled it over her shoulder farthest from him. He liked having his arm around her. A smile came at the simple thought that someday they might sit staring at the stars and he could put his arm around her and hold the heat of her body close to his. Then he remembered there would be no someday. Not for them.

"I'll need you to help me as much as you can, Noah," she said. He struggled to hear her over the beating of his heart at her proximity. "I'm not entirely sure how I got you inside in the first place."

He closed his eyes tightly at the sudden image of being inside her, surrounded by her warmth. He willed his body not to respond. It appeared to be ignoring him. A niggling in the back of his brain stopped the thought and replaced it with a hint of panic. He couldn't figure out why. He pushed the thought back again and concentrated on their cooperative efforts.

With one more tug she pulled him even closer to her so that her back rested flush against his chest. He heard a small squeak from her as his arm was pulled tight over her shoulder and he wondered exactly what to do with his other hand.

"Ready?" she asked and she sounded out of breath. The thought crossed his mind to wonder how she thought she would manage to move him if just lifting his arm wore her out so. He nodded at her all the same. Hell, he'd agree to anything she asked. Whatever she wanted, the answer would be yes. He closed his eyes and rolled them behind his eyelids at how ridiculous that was.

Even though he had nodded his readiness, he hadn't really pondered what he needed to be ready for and was surprised when she pushed forcefully off of the bed taking him with her. His free hand went quickly to her hip while the hand attached to the arm she was holding grabbed instinctively for any purchase at all. He found himself clutching her soft breast, its nipple hardened against his palm.

Her breath stopped for a moment and he released his hand holding it uselessly a few inches away from her body.

"Sorry," he muttered. He wasn't. That was a lie. He shouldn't lie to her. Of course he was doing and thinking a good many things he shouldn't and what just sprang to attention was chief among them.

Eve felt the hardness pressing into her backside, insistent. She should shift so that it wasn't lodged where it was. But she didn't. Of course he didn't either. She was frozen. She needed to pull him closer. She wanted to pull him closer. She could see, in her mind's eye, reaching behind herself and pulling his hips tight to her, rocking against him, finally understanding the ache, the need that had taken residence in her on that first night he was with her.

Noah was nearly holding his breath. One hand was on her hip and the other mere inches from her supple breast. It wouldn't take much to pull her to him, tight against him, to feel her move against him. From somewhere inside him, there was a need. A need to make her his. It was an absurd thought, really. He tried to shove it away but it wouldn't leave. With all of the resolve he had remaining, he contented himself to simply tighten his grip on her hip. To steady himself.

Eve felt his body tense against hers. She'd made him uncomfortable. It's her way. She does this to men. That's what Pa says. He tells her all the time.

"Stop it, Evie girl," she chastised under her breath, thinking that he wouldn't hear. "Stop taking advantage of his weakened state. You have to stay clean. You have to stay clean."

Noah thought he heard something. The words didn't quite make sense. Maybe he didn't hear them all.

"Did you say something, Eve?"

"I said, I need you get closer to me," she covered breathlessly. "I'm just afraid you'll fall and if you're too far away, I won't be able to catch you."

He nodded. He smoothed his hand from her hip across her belly, to hold on to her waist firmly. His eyes closed tightly as he tightened his grip on her. He would _not_ think of his dream. He refused to imagine her rubbing her backside against him. He adamantly eschewed the thought of grasping her skirt in his hand and pulling it up. He held her tighter, his arms trembling from exertion. His hand grabbed and curled into her skirt, bunching the fabric in the palm of his hand. He heard her sharp breath and more firmly wrapped his arm around her shoulders across the front of her neck. He pulled her waist tighter against him, and stood, cleaving to her firmly. For balance. And support. Like she said to. His eyes rolled back. He leaned his forehead against the back of her head as he shuddered out a breath.

"Noah?" She whispered.

"Hmm?" He responded absently. Her body felt good. Really good. He couldn't fight the pleasure anymore. He melted into her, his head sagging, his lips a hair's breadth away from her neck. He breathed her in like she was the source of all air.

"Are you ready?" Oh God, was he ever. Was she having troubles breathing? Because she sounded very unsteady. Maybe she was catching what he'd had. "Left foot first, Noah." He thought he nodded. He couldn't tell from the haze he was in. Damn, maybe he was sicker than he thought. Wait, which one was left again? She patted his left leg.

"This one," she murmured. He nodded, then frowned. He didn't realize he had said that out loud. Damn, what was this woman doing to him?

They carefully stepped the six steps to the tub, his body rubbing hers the whole time. They stopped every step to reaffirm stability and to catch their breath. He was heavy after all, she acknowledged. It took a lot of effort to take each step, he conceded. Each stop consisted of him holding her tighter. For balance, he nodded to himself.

Several minutes later saw them finally at the side of the tub, sweating and breathless. Noah cursed himself for a fool for bringing himself to the point of near explosion on her back. Eve wasn't sure she'd be able to ever get herself to the bathtub again without her body responding something fierce at the memory of his powerful body tight against hers.

Eve eased a naked and hard Noah into the chair she had set up next to the bathtub. Averting her eyes by looking at the bathwater and not back at him, she helped him get his feet into the tub. He grasped the seat of the chair and eased himself into the hot water of the tub with shaky arms. Once settled, his eyes closed in relaxation.

"There," she smiled indulgently. "Doesn't that feel better?" she asked.

When he opened his eyes, he looked away from her.

"One thing...just one damned thing," he mumbled. "I can't even get my own self into the tub."

Eve couldn't stop herself from reaching and taking his hand that draped on the side of the tub.

"I know this must be very difficult for you. Your hands tell of hard work and you have a strong back and such a proud face. This won't be forever. I'm sure you'll feel up to eating later and once these herbs clear your lungs, you'll be strong as you were. Please don't be cross with yourself."

"You've done so much for me, Evie," he said looking at her with unguarded eyes. "I don't even know what all you did but you did it for me. I'd be dead now if not for you and I can't even stand up and get in a damned tub on my own."

"I did what any Christian ought do," she argued.

"Maybe they all ought but most wouldn't. Hell, if I had a sister, I'd tell her she was crazy taking in a stranger she found in the yard. Especially..."

He knew he didn't even have to finish the thought.

"Levi would've said the same thing," she said sadly.

"Levi was your brother?"

She nodded and nearly gave in to her emotions but then straightened her back and looked him in the eye.

"But he wasn't always right," she asserted. "And we're not strangers now, are we?"

"Eve...I think we sort of are. I'd like to change that though."

"Ho-how do you think we should do that?" she asked cautiously. Did he remember yet? Did he know how well acquainted they already were? Or did he want that from her whether he remembered or not? Or...he was speaking again and she forced herself to pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

"For starters," he said flashing a devastating smile and holding his right hand out to her. "My name is Noah Dixon, Ma'am."

She took his hand firmly and with some relief replied, "Eve Bradley."

"See, we're less strangers already...now ask me something. Anything you want. Anything you can think of that you want to know about me."

Eve opened her mouth and a thousand questions wanted to burst forth all at once. So nothing actually came out. She closed her mouth again and thought a moment.

"There is so much...I don't know where to begin."

"I'll answer them all," he told her. "Just ask the first thing that pops into your head."

"Where are you from? When did you get free? Are you married? Do you have a family?"

Noah laughed and Eve thought the sound like rolling thunder was the loveliest sound she had ever heard.

"Couldn't pick just one?"

She shook her head sheepishly, "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be sorry. I've been here for days and you didn't even know my name until this morning."

He sighed and then began speaking.

"From? Well, I'm from lots of places but lately I been living in Sweetwater and working for the Pony Express. As for free, I was born that way. Plenty of folks'd like to see me in chains but I always been free. I'm not married and I don't have blood family left but the people I work with have become like a family, I guess. Anything else?"

Eve shook her head. There wasn't anything really. Not that she could dare to ask right then at any rate. She wanted to ask things. Did he remember her holding him in the night? She wasn't even talking about when they'd...well, she didn't even know what to call what they had done. She meant the times when he was having bad dreams and she'd held him tight and soothed him. She wanted to ask if he'd stay...or take her with him. She couldn't though. She couldn't leave Pa. He needed her.

Then something occurred to her.

"Won't you be missed?"

"I expect I will," he acknowledged. "Not like the others though. No one expects me to stay on, I don't think."

"Why?"

"Things I say...how I say them. They're good people and they care. I'll have to get back at some point. I don't want them to think I would move on without even telling them or saying goodbye. They've done some very kind things for me and never once made me feel I didn't belong."

"We could send word," she offered. "There's a boy who comes by every few days to see if I need anything. Well, he comes by when my father is gone. He goes into town for me. I'm sure if we wrote a note, he could get it to the nearest Pony Express station. It's not far."

"I'd appreciate that."

"It's the least I can do for you."

"That is a strange thing to say for a woman who has tended to me this long."

"It's been nice to have company even though you've been unconscious most of the time. At least I had someone to talk to. I half expected you to wake up yelling for me to shut my mouth."

"I can't imagine ever tiring of your voice," he said and then seemed to catch himself. "I mean, for the comfort you bring me."

"Oh," she said and knew her disappointment was evident on her face. It was too much to ask for him to want to hear her voice...to care for her.

She watched as his face clouded.

"Som-something happened didn't it? Something between us...Oh God...I knew I felt I needed to apologize. I am so sorry Eve. Liberties like that...I don't even know what happened exactly but..."

"You don't?"

He took a breath and closed his eyes and the memory seemed to come to him. Her atop him, around him, holding tight to her, her breasts pressed into his chest, her eyes soft and wondering, her small smile, his fingers tangled in her soft hair. And one word: Sorry. His eyes flew open.

"Oh dear God! Are you alright?"

And there it was. She lowered her eyes in shame. Now that he knew, she wasn't sure how she even felt about it. Part of her wanted him to remember, wanted him to touch her, hold her, maybe even kiss her. And then part of her was horrified that he knew how she acted. She supposed she should just be grateful it hadn't been worse than it was. Pa wouldn't know. He wouldn't ever have to know. He couldn't be cross about something he didn't know about.

All she could do was nod as she kept her eyes on the floor.

"Eve, I shouldn't have done that. I...I can't even believe that you still cared for me after I did such a thing."

"You...it wasn't you...I behaved so terribly," she argued. "It's gentlemanly of you to take the burden of blame."

She watched his mouth open as if he was about to say something else but she jumped up out of her chair and began speaking before he could.

"I need to get some clean sheets on the bed for you. And fetch your long johns for you to put on. Your bath water will be cool soon and I'm not near ready for you to get out."

Noah watched helplessly as she hurried away and disappeared behind the makeshift curtains that enclosed the sleeping area. He had a washcloth in his hand and the near revolting mixture of carefully chosen herbs in his nostrils. And he was aroused. He was still aroused. This wasn't his way. If it was, he would have been dead long before now.

It was her. Something about her. He was powerless to control his body's reaction to her. And she nearly ran from him. Of course she did. It was possibly the only sensible thing she had done since he collapsed in her yard.

He threw the washcloth at the water surrounding him and jerked his head back from the splash of water to his face. He rested an arm on the edge of the tub and dropped his chin into his hand brooding. It seemed so important to be close to her. To care for her, to...save her. It didn't make sense but that's how he felt. The more urgent his need to be near her, the more his body reacted in uncontrollable ways. He scowled intensely. He would not allow himself to lose control. Not like that. Not again.

* * *

**Yes...finally! hehehe...this should have been up yesterday but then I got hit with a rather nasty stomach virus. Still a little shaky but food is staying down and so is my fever. Yay!**

**So...here we have just a little more of good old Noah and Eve. This took a good long time to figure out. You might notice that in the summary it now states that this is co-written by the lovely and enormously talented JayLaw. Or Gertrude as she is known is some circles. I am very past due in giving this acknowledgement. Basically, I write a very skeletal version of the chapter and Gert puts the life into it. What I write...well, you wouldn't want to read that, really. **

**So once again, thank you to my collaborator for being gifted and awesome! There is quite a bit more to this story. We have maybe the next two chapters mapped out. After that it's pretty loose outlining kind of thing...but I promise we mostly know where this is going and it will get done even if it does take two or more weeks for every installment!**

**So, let us know what you think. Good or bad.-Hortense and Gertrude**


End file.
